Assumptio
by ParadiseParrot
Summary: Deathsaurus's war is over, but it doesn't feel that way. Regardless, Nickel has something for him. (MTMTE 55 spoilers)


_For about 9 hours this was just going to be a Deathsaurus character study, and then I went "but listen...what if...baby." And no one was surprised. Major MTMTE spoilers as mentioned, so maybe avoid unless you've read issue 55!_

* * *

"There's something you need to see."

Nickel had a force to her voice, the kind born from being a quarter of the average size and needing others to listen. There were generals who wished for that kind of firmness, but it seemed she had cultivated it from necessity.

Deathsaurus, for his part, turned four dimmed optics her way, before going back to his casualty lists. "I'm sure Tarn's literal closet full of skeletons can wait." His own voice was too soft. Exhausted, in need of recharge. Weighed down by his actions and his grief.

Nickel scowled, and zoomed forward. Two little hands tugged at his own, and Deathsaurus pulled his hand back into his lap.

"You _must_ come see this," she said, and Deathsaurus finally looked at her. For the past day and night Nickel had bustled, since it seemed to be how she solved a number of her problems. Handling the triage of his men, making comfortable those who were too far gone, scolding the insistent fools who tried to leave their berths. The _Peaceful Tyranny_ was being operated by a skeleton crew of unscathed mechs, and the others—all of them—had been ordered to rest. Most of the injured had made it to Nickel, and Deathsaurus had circled, over and over, the names of those they had left behind. How many had been alive on that world still, unable to be carried home? Would those names ever leave him?

Instead of circling them, again, he sighed, and pushed his chair out. "Make it quick," he growled. She didn't flinch, of course, but rolled her eyes and bustled back out his new office door.

To his relief, they quickly passed Tarn's room. The plush, oversized berth and collection of fine engexes had been...well, overkill, and Tarn had been disappointed when Deathsaurus had ignored his advances. He didn't much want to see those miners strung up again either, Tarn's grotesque library. (Expecting someone to interface beneath _that._ Honestly.)

Nickel paused at a rather dingy door at the hallway's end, and Deathsaurus watched her stretch to reach her own lock. When he paused, she frowned. "We really don't have all day," she said, zooming forward again. " _And_ you're letting that damned draft in."

Deathsaurus obeyed, and didn't comment on how Tarn's doctor lived in a room so small, he had to duck under the doorframe. Small sized for a small medic, apparently. Utilitarian, too, few possessions. Deathsaurus could respect that.

For a moment, Nickel seemed to have disappeared, and he finally wondered _what_ it was she had brought him to see. Maybe she'd just brought him hear to yell at him, for getting in this mess in the first place? They had the ship, and it was quite a ship, but the damned planet seemed to have been lost behind them. His Warworld was still a few hops away.

Nickel had lost her family, too, and Deathsaurus, father to his mechs, knew this was no small thing. (Pathetic and obsessive as they were, they _had_ been her family. Kaon was in cold storage now, with promises of a proper burial.) This was not the first time she had lost such a thing, either, not when she had survived Prion's fall. No, maybe she had just brought him here to break down. There was a trust between them now, one that wouldn't easily break.

When she popped up again, on the other side of a berth, he didn't know what he'd expected.

In her arms was a miniature Cybertronian. Somewhat smaller than Nickel, with a large head and round blue optics, half closed as the creature left recharge. Tiny hands, balled into fists near its face, and perfectly formed little feet. Armour so obviously soft that Deathsaurus could dent it with a pinch.

The world _sparklet_ crossed Deathsaurus's mind, but he had never seen a live one in person. A few pictures of the dead ones, from the old Iacon raids, but he had been born after all that.

"Tarn's son," Nickel said, and Deathsaurus felt his spark flare out white.

* * *

He had wanted—no, the right word was demanded—an explanation, but apparently his shock and panic had spiked his core temperature enough to prick Nickel's scanner, and cause her to fuss. The little creature in one arm and her scanner in the other, she had browbeat Deathsaurus back to his own office and bustled, of course, to hide the whole ridiculous situation.

"Honestly, I know it's a shock, but you warframe mechs— _don't_ sit there!" she snapped, as Deathsaurus reached towards the most comfortable chair. "I'm putting him so I can talk, and don't you disturb him while I explain. He needs his rest."

Deathsaurus allowed Nickel to set the sparklet down, optics on him all the time as she turned and scanned his temperature. He sat elsewhere while she fussed, and watched the little thing stare back. Newborns all started malleable, but sparklets had systems so humble they couldn't even speak for themselves.

"Has he been here this whole time?" Deathsaurus asked finally, hearing the disbelief in his own voice. "And...as I recall, it takes two to make these."

"An Autobot carried." Nickel's voice had gone flat. "There's a little outpost on Messatine, and Tarn was getting his t-cogs there for awhile. His transplants, too, for awhile. I'd put my wheel down about his...relationship."

Deathsaurus looked from Nickel's wide eyes, to the sparklet's, dimming in rest. "Autobots would never abandon something helpless. And that," he said, pointing at the creature, "is—"

"Helpless, yes," Nickel snapped. "Tarn found him in the snow after the outpost was abandoned, so obviously they would. There was a note on his wrist, but I haven't read it. I'm sure it's among Tarn's things."

He tried to figure out how to respond. Primus himself might have had to think about how to approach this madness, and for a moment Deathsaurus just watched the sparklet. A moment later, feeling no more enlightened, and settled on the best he could come up with. "May I hold him?"

Nickel stared. For a full minute, Deathsaurus thought she would turn and go, taking Tarn's offspring with her, but instead she grumbled and rolled forward.

"Bend down. Now, careful—yes, that's right—and support his head. The cables need to strengthen."

The little thing had no weight in Deathsaurus's arms. For someone who had been locked up for so long, he seemed to have settled just fine, snuggling himself further into his arms. Deathsaurus was stunned. Were all sparklets this trusting?

"He likes everyone at first," Nickel said, leaning over him. When the sparklet saw her, he smiled, and waved one tiny fist. Deathsaurus smiled too, the first time since all this had come to a head. It had slipped right onto his face like a virus.

"Only at first?" Deathsaurus asked. He didn't even glance her way, watching as the sparklet took hold of one of his fingers. He held tight, and Deathsaurus marveled, again, at the miniature features.

"He was scared of Vos, Helex, and Tesarus," Nickel said. "One snarl and he was done with them—though he was always safe. Tarn wouldn't have let something happen." She sighed, and reached out to stroke the sparklet's cheek."They were starting to warm up to him, but...what happened is probably for the best."

"Does he have a name?" Deathsaurus asked. Nickel scowled.

"Tyrannus Megatronus," she said, and Deathsaurus resisted the sudden, surprising urge to laugh. "'Our Decepticon heir' needed a noble name, you see."

"That will have to change," he said. The blue helm and feet were bright on the little one's deep purple plating, strikingly so. He would have to think about this. "Such a small thing doesn't need a name with such pointless weight."

"I've been calling him 'Ty' when Tarn can't hear, but, yes." There was a ghost of a smile on Nickel's face too, a relieved one. "Glad to hear he gets to stay aboard."

Deathsaurus looked up at her sharply. "Where else would we send him?" he asked, because it was the most obvious thing in the world. His Warworld had multitudes of wide hallways that a sparklet could run through, in an upgrade's time. Plenty of windows through which they could look, and Deathsaurus could teach him the constellations. Plenty of mechs who understood squadron's loyalty, and would extend that to this new, very small member.

Nickel stared at him. "I knew you'd have to know—it's your ship now—and if you'd tried to hurt him I would have reformatted you...but I thought you'd at least dump him off on a mechanical world." She grinned, crooked, at him. "Prionians liked babies, but generally Decepticons do not. You Cybertronians have no experience."

Deathsaurus cracked a smile in return, and it was easier than he'd expected. The sparklet—tiny, unfortunate Tyrannus—made a small sound, and right away Deathsaurus looked down. Observed, briefly, that he was frowning, and had let go of his finger.

"He needs to be energized," Nickel said. "He hasn't been getting enough, with the preparations. Tarn wouldn't let me stay with him, but...still my fault.

Anger curled in Deathsaurus's spark, and he pushed it down hard. "Why was he kept hidden? I would not have harmed him."

"Tarn's strict orders," Nickel said, shrugging. "He was paranoid something would change if you knew. Or that you would steal him."

"A real possibility," Deathsaurus said, a ghost of a smile on his face. With Overlord a factor too, maybe it was lucky he'd been hidden. "I'm not above admitting that I'm rather taken with him."

"Good to hear." Nickel smiled too, then held out her arms. "Now hand him over, he takes his ration from a bottle. I'll take him and let you stew over this development."

Before he could stop himself, Deathsaurus's grip had tightened on the sparklet. Barely a fraction, certainly not enough to hurt him. Nickel tilted her head. His spark flared, flustered.

"If I am to take on this child," he said, tone careful, "I should learn how to care for him. My Chief Medical Officer cannot be saddled with the whole responsibility."

"I forgot you're not above real work." Nickel rolled backwards, then jumped daintily down from her chair. "You've got to do it right, or that fuss will turn into wailing, let me tell you. Worse than Tesarus when it was time to clean out his seams..."

* * *

When Deathsaurus addressed his troops, it was standing only a fraction over their heads. He wasn't much for displays (he had thrown out Tarn's statues of Megatron, and his _throne)_ , and still felt uncomfortable _above_ the mechs who gave him everything. Still, this was how they could all see him.

By extension, this meant they could all see that in his arms was a tiny, sleeping sparklet. At first no one had said anything, but he could see his second-in-command in front, bursting from his seams with curiosity.

"What is _that?_ " Leozack finally asked. Of course he had cut Deathsaurus off too, jerking a thumb towards the child. He reacted with practiced calm, turning his optics to meet his second's.

"I ask you to lower your volume," he said. "This child needs his rest."

Deathsaurus had little dramatic flair, but he did enjoy the ripple of murmurs through his troops.

"Child?" Leozack snapped, voice already edging on hysterical. The sparklet stirred, and Deathsaurus pushed down his annoyance. "Starscream Lite" was not a nickname Deathsaurus endorsed, but the troops weren't wrong about it.

"Yes," Deathsaurus said. "Actually, now that I've discussed the upcoming memorial and our next steps, I should sate your curiosity." He bounced the sparklet gently in his arms, like this was the most normal thing in the world. "This child was sired by Tarn, but seeing as Tarn is no longer with us..." At that, he waved his hand, and his troops grumbled angrily. "...This child is now _my_ son. He is ours, and we will raise him as well as we were able.

Leozack went blessedly silent, jaw slack. Beside him, nearest to the front of the crowd, Nickel grinned, and the troops rippled again with their shocked murmurs. Solon was already waggling fingers at the sparklet, grinning with delight as his eyes opened, and Deathsaurus, finally, relaxed.

* * *

Cobalt had settled in nicely.

They hadn't yet transferred to the Warworld, so maybe Deathsaurus should have expected that. Cobalt of Messatine knew these hallways and these rooms, and had adapted quickly to the change of crew. Nickel, from a colony that sparked children often, claimed he wouldn't remember the DJD, and that filled Deathsaurus with relief. Unfortunate parentage or not, now he could teach him to be a Decepticon—a true Decepticon, one honourable and proud. Proud enough to work and fight alongside his fine, brave mechs. Ones who didn't blame him for what had happened, despite everything (and kept him up at night with that realization).

Nickel had been thrilled with his name suggestion ("You slagger. Now he and I match"), and Cobalt seemed to recognize it as his soon enough. When his son grew up, he could choose one of his own if he wanted. Deathsaurus was confident that he would pick something better than Tyrannus Megatronus.

Leozack still wasn't happy about the "little stray," but Leozack was never happy about anything. Deathsaurus never entrusted Cobalt to him, but the rest of his troops had grown curious and attentive of their charge. Kakuryu in particular, soft fool that he was, had gotten especially adoring (and had _requested_ babysitting duty, for spark's sake). Mostly, though, Deathsaurus tried to keep him close.. And Nickel, whom he knew still watched his every move around the child.

"He might be your son now, but I'm his favourite aunt," she would remind him, scanner in one hand and Cobalt in the other. The little mech was still about a third her size, but Nickel appeared to have no trouble lifting him, or cradling him in her arms. Deathsaurus imagined that in a few years that could change.

"You're his only aunt," Deathsaurus would reply, but it had no bite. He was usually too busy looking at Cobalt, and when the sparklet chose to look his way he couldn't hide his smile.

Nickel would notice, of course, and sigh, letting Cobalt down so he could reach for Deathsaurus and be swooped up in his arms. He could take wobbling steps now, and lift his own head, but Deathsaurus preferred to hold him close.

"You're wrapped around his little finger," she'd say. "Hopeless."

Well, if this was being hopeless, Deathsaurus welcomed it. Shifts went by quickly with Cobalt dozing in his lap, or seen from the corner of his optic, playing peek-a-boo with Greatsix. His soldiers (sulking Leozack excepted) had become just as hopeless as Deathsaurus himself, which was a relief. There was always so much to be done.

He tried not to think of Tarn, though his presence was everywhere on this ship. His very spark essence had given him Cobalt. Pharma had been the carrier's name (Tarn had carefully produced a birth certificate for his son, among his other documents), but as far as they knew he was dead too. The note from his carrier seemed to be missing, or well hidden, as Deathsaurus had failed to find it in Tarn's things. Not that it mattered—anyone willing to interface with Tarn was probably unworthy of parenting. If you asked Deathsaurus, Cobalt had ended up in the right place.

"Daddy?"

Deathsaurus looked down. Cobalt couldn't say his adopted parent's name, or even "Father," but for the moment they were both satisfied with this. He reached down, stroking the little mech's head. "Yes, little one?"

Cobalt leaned forward, and pointed at a brightly coloured datapad. "Read?"

Nickel said books stimulated sparklet's minds, even before they could learn to read them. And though a force his size had an endless stream of work to get through, Deathsaurus tried to carve out time for this. And, as Nickel often pointed out, he was loathe to say no to his little mech. He smiled.

"Yes," he said, reaching for the datapad. Gleefully, Cobalt clapped his little hands. "A few pages. Then you'll take a nap."

"No," Cobalt said firmly, making Deathsaurus chuckle. "No nap. Read!"

They would see about that in a half hour. For now, though, they could read. Slowly, from simple stories, but Nickel said it would expand his mind, and clearly he enjoyed it.

Deathsaurus scrolled through to _The First Beastformer,_ one full of illustrations of birds and felines—and dragons, Cobalt's favourite. Deathsaurus's, too. He smiled—his guilt hadn't ebbed away, not at all, but there was no better distraction than this.


End file.
